


Safe with You

by jaimesselfishmachines



Series: Idiot Boyfriends (head over heels and in denial) [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: And by "each other" I mean the world, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Past Abuse, The one and only otp, idiot boyfriends, they deserve each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimesselfishmachines/pseuds/jaimesselfishmachines
Summary: Hercules likes to touch Laurens. His hands enjoy mapping out every inch of skin beneath his fingertips.Which is a problem when Laurens has something to hide.Or,How Hercules found out about Laurens' scars.





	Safe with You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hard Lessons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730026) by [jaimesselfishmachines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimesselfishmachines/pseuds/jaimesselfishmachines). 



 

When Hercules kisses Laurens, the response is not what he expects.

“Get off me!” The demand is muffled against the kiss as Laurens places his palms flat against Hercules’ chest and shoves forcefully. Hercules, who seconds earlier assumed this was going well, knits his eyebrows together in confusion. Laurens is touching his lips thoughtfully, doing everything he can to avoid unleashing some unholy wrath upon Hercules.

“Okay…” Hercules presses his palms into the couch, pushing himself up to standing position. “What was..? Did you not want that?”

Laurens doesn’t answer. He begins pacing, feet flattening the floorboards which squeak in protest. He pulls at his t-shirt to fan himself, droplets of sweat already sticking the fabric to his skin. Laurens pauses to study Hercules. He is an Adonis of a man, dark skin and broad expanse of chest, strong arms that could hold Laurens down, fingers that could draw secrets from Laurens’ lips, strong jawline framed by stubble that would brush delightfully against Laurens’ skin when kissed, and a thick, leaking cock that stretches Laurens in a way that no other man has, in a way that completes and exhausts, that leaves Laurens begging and breathless. A cock that Hercules strokes lazily now that he is no longer inside Laurens, now that Laurens is no longer riding him to climax.

“I like you a lot, Hercules.”

“Okay,” Hercules frowns, tucking himself into boxer shorts. Still, his erection is painfully obvious, “and I like you too. I’m sensing a _but_ here.”

“No _but._ And I want you to fuck me ‘til I can’t walk…” Laurens purses his lips as he thinks of the right words.

“But you don’t want me to kiss you..?” Hercules wipes the sweat from his brow, “and I mean that’s alright! If you don’t like kissing during sex or whatever.” Even if he means the words, he doesn’t sound convinced. And that’s because he isn’t. Hercules remembers how this started, how he came to be almost naked in Laurens’ living room. And it started with Laurens’ lips on his neck.

“Listen, I probably should have told you earlier. But my father wasn’t a very nice man. He, uh… It’s why I go by Laurens, why I don’t go to church, why I’m never around you when you’re drunk, it’s why I joined the army, it’s why I give you his pension.” Laurens inhales deeply, “it’s also why I never take my shirt off when we have sex.”

“Uh…” Hercules opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he realizes he isn’t quite sure where Laurens is going with this. Herc’s questions are answered when Laurens lifts his hands over his head and pulls the garment off his torso. He swings it around like a bandana, with an air of confidence that he clearly does not feel. He smiles at Hercules, though it’s more of a grimace, and Hercules tries his best to look reassuring.

“L-listen, if you don’t want to keep seeing me, it’s okay, just…” Laurens clears his throat, shaking his head. It’s now or never. He turns his back to Hercules, thankful that he won’t have to see the disgust on Herc’s face. He swallows thickly, his back on offer for Herc’s judgement, as the silence spreads to every corner of the room.

“ _Holy fuck._ ”

Laurens turns at the sound of Herc’s voice, moving to shrug his t-shirt back on.

“Don’t.” Hercules holds his hands out. “Not yet. I want to see.”

“He hit me, a lot.” Laurens laces his fingers together at the back of his scalp and turns away. “For anything he could think of. It was worse when he... when he drank. He would beat me bloody, and if I cried, if he wasn’t _satisfied_ , he would force my brother to rub salt, lemon juice or…” Laurens flinches away from an imaginary attack, “or rum in my wounds. I always got a lecture with it, that I was a faggot, a pansy, too soft, that I wasn’t man enough, that I was supposed to continue his legacy.” Laurens snorts, “That obviously didn’t work, because I still like sucking dick and fucking men. I should’ve…”

“It’s okay,” Hercules rests what is intended to be a reassuring hand on Laurens’ shoulder.

But the soldier jumps away, body trembling. “Hit me.”

“What?”

“It’s what I know.” Laurens turns slowly, and Hercules can see the tears running down the soldier’s face. “You’re so gentle and compassionate, and I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why. Sometimes I just wish you’d hit me so I don’t feel bad about ending whatever this is.”

“C’mere.” Hercules sighs, moving to sit on the sofa. “C’mon.” He urges, patting his lap as an invitation.

Laurens tilts his head left and right, fingers tangling themselves in the white fabric in his hands. Still, if only out of curiosity, his feet move forward until his legs are touching Herc’s knees. “Are you going to hit m--”

“Shhh,” Hercules silences Laurens, reaching out to grip Laurens’ thighs and drag Laurens onto his lap. Laurens lets out an exclamation of surprise when he finds himself straddling Herc’s too-warm body, which is suddenly all too close. No sooner than his crotch is pressed against Herc’s erection, does a hand tangle in his hair, tugging sharply. Laurens rolls his hips unconsciously, shivering as the grip on his hair tightens.

“F-fuck...”

“Shush. Look at me.” Hercules commands, holding Laurens still. Laurens nods, an almost imperceptible movement, as he stares at Hercules through half-lidded eyes. “I’m not going to hit you. I’m **never** going to hit you. I need you to know that. You didn’t deserve what your father did to you, and I don’t ever want to put you in a position to hate me, or fear me, or associate me with him and what he did.”

“Hercules,” Laurens blushes, “can we just go back to fucking and forget I said anything?”

“Is that really what you want?”

“What would _you_ want?”

“Don’t make fun, okay? Okay.” Hercules bites his lip. “I want to cuddle.”

“Can we cuddle with your dick in me?”

Hercules chuckles, his palm resting against Laurens’ back as he leans forward, somehow managing to keep them both from falling off the couch. He eases himself out of his boxers. “If that’s what you want.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing with all my heart
> 
> (All mistakes are my own)


End file.
